


Missing Words

by StillNotGinger10 (lilshorty7923)



Series: Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6511948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilshorty7923/pseuds/StillNotGinger10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was during one of these spars that Ed saw it. They were taking a break, drinking some water in Roy’s yard, when Ed saw something black over the edge of sweat pants that hung too low. He didn't say anything, but he also didn’t stop staring fast enough. Roy noticed. </p><p> </p><p>AU where your soulmate's thoughts about you are written somewhere on your body, constantly changing to form new words as your soulmate's thoughts change.</p><p>Prequel to Five More Minutes, but can be read in any order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Words

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to add to this universe, but a review by secret25 on ff.net got me thinking "how WOULD I do a prequel?" and then this happened before I'd really even thought about writing more.
> 
> It was harder to write (Idk why but I kept switched tenses and having to go back and fix it) so I'm not as confident in it, but I hope you like it. I think it turned out alright. It's just a few scenes that let to Ed and Roy getting together and becoming the couple that we see in Five More Minutes.

“If one more person talks to me about ‘my soulmate’ I’m gonna punch ‘em.”

Roy remembered these same complaints from Winry’s wedding. Luckily no one at either Winry or Al’s wedding felt comfortable giving _him_ advice about his love life, but poor Ed couldn't say the same. In the fifteen minutes or so Roy had been seated, he had seen no less than four partygoers ask Ed about his soulmate. All of them seemed to think he either wasn't putting enough effort into finding them or that he knew who it was and was too shy to make a move. The perils of growing up in a small town, Roy supposed. Surrounded on all sides by busybodies. At least Ed should be able to avoid this at the second ceremony Al and Mei planned to have in Xing.

“I don’t think your brother would appreciate that,” Roy said, as he watched Ed slouch in the chair he’d just dropped into. “You could always ask Lieutenant Hawkeye to dance. I find she’s a good deterrent against annoyances.”

Ed laughed. “Yeah, and when I step on her foot with my automail, I’ll get to see where exactly she hid her gun in that dress. As curious as I am, I think I’ll pass.”

Just then the waiter came by with the two glasses of wine Roy had ordered. One had been for Riza, but she’d been gone for over ten minutes now—probably dancing with some lucky man or woman—and Ed seemed to need the drink more. Roy pushed one across the table before taking a sip from his own glass.

“Cheers,” Ed said before downing the entire drink. Roy fought back a wince. “I just don't get,” Ed said, “why everyone always assumes everyone else has a soulmate. And that they’re their soulmate’s soulmate. What about those of us who don’t have a soulmate at all?”

“Cheers,” Roy said this time before taking another sip of his drink.

“I mean, what am I supposed to say? If I say I don't have a soulmate, they get all pitying and shit, and just fuck that.”

“I find it’s best to say something mysterious, or distract them before making a tactful retreat.”

That stopped Ed’s tirade. He blinked, and Roy could almost hear the questions flying through Ed’s brilliant mind. He must not have picked up Roy’s clue earlier. Too focused on his rant, probably. But he didn't ask any questions, didn't say anything that might draw attention to the fact that he had just learned something new and significant about his old boss. He just cleared his throat.

Roy took mercy and continued the conversation himself. “Though the higher rank you are, the less people dare ask. Maybe you should consider enlisting again.”

Ed let out a bark of laughter, short and mocking. “Yeah right. Over my dead body.”

“Just a suggestion,” Roy said, and he knew that he’d successfully steered them clear of awkward terrain. And that Ed would leave that night assuming Roy did not have, and never has had, a soulmate.

Roy didn’t correct him.

 

* * *

 

With Al in Xing, Ed needed a new sparring partner. It was Roy’s fault he moved to Central, so Ed figured that Roy pretty much volunteered for the job. After all, if the bastard hadn’t gotten Grumman to create a new job in the military, one where Alchemists could research without being on the military’s leash—less resources and funds available to them, but enough access to the books in the library to make Ed happy—then Ed wouldn’t be there. He’d be traveling and probably kicking some lowlife’s ass instead of Roy’s.

Though Ed had to admit that the man had improved. Ed didn't have alchemy, and Roy refused to use his against Ed. It made for a decent fight. Roy wasn’t as out of shape as Ed thought he’d be for someone who spent most of his day at a desk. It was almost…fun. Not that Ed would ever tell the bastard that.

It was during one of these spars that Ed saw it. They were taking a break, drinking some water in Roy’s yard, when Ed saw something black over the edge of sweat pants that hung too low. He didn't say anything, but he also didn’t stop staring fast enough. Roy noticed.

It was an awkward silence, where Ed tried to stare Roy down—the man had lied to him—but couldn't stop his eyes from drifting down to the bastard’s hips. The black didn't look like words, but Ed couldn't see enough to be sure.

“It was Hughes.” The soft words broke the silence.

That didn't make sense. How…? “But he…”

“Gracia was his, and he was hers.”

Damn. Roy was a mismatch.

Ed had heard stories about people not matching with their soulmate, but he’d never met one. They always seemed like an unlikely, mostly theoretical, anomaly. Something Ed had heard about, but never given much thought to. Only now could he see how painful that would be.

He wouldn’t say sorry. Roy hadn’t tell him this for pity. But his default response when unsure near the bastard wasn’t much better. “So you thought you’d lie to me, bastard?” Anger.

Roy sounded a little irritated then. “Should I have shared my life story with you?”

“Maybe,” Ed said, still loud and fierce. Then quieter, and he had no idea why he added it, dammit what was wrong with his mouth, “I’d read that book.”

There was a pause. Of course there was because what the fuck is someone supposed to say to an abrupt change like that. He was so stupid. But then he added, as if trying to make it worse by over sharing, “Mine was on my foot.” He stamped his automail against the ground, like Roy wouldn’t know what foot he might talk about in the past tense. “It was blank when I lost it.”

Roy didn't say sorry either. They seem to be all about defying expectation today. Instead, he said, “Their loss.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner at Roy’s was a monthly thing—his way of making sure Ed was eating something besides take out at least every once in a while—and then it was a weekly thing, and then it was nearly every night. It was odd at first, seeing as Roy didn't have company very often, but it wasn't long before Ed became part of his house. Someone Roy expected to be there, and liked having around. After dinner they’d taken to spending time together in the living room—reading, researching, arguing alchemy, arguing politics, arguing anything really.

One night, months after Ed’s moved to Central, weeks after he’d begun to spend every night eating Roy’s food, they sat on the couch, reading by firelight and listening to the radio. The program started talking about some celebrity that had found their soulmate. Nothing unusual as far as gossip went, but it caught Roy’s attention. Ed’s feet had been slowly burrowing their way under Roy’s thigh for the last few minutes, but the automail wasn't cold enough to make him complain. No, he was focused on Ed’s foot for a different reason.

“Where on your foot?” he asked before he realized he might need to be more specific.

However, Ed answered almost immediately. Maybe the radio had driven their thoughts in the same direction. “The top. Right under my toes,” he leaned over and pointed to a spot on his foot, “Here.”

“Hmm,” was all Roy said, but his attention didn’t drift from Ed’s feet. Even before he snatched Ed’s foot and drew it onto his lap, he could feel Ed’s attention on him. Any decent alchemist always had chalk within reach, and Roy was no exception. He pulled a stick out and wrote right where Ed pointed on the automail.

_Would he say yes?_

“Yes to what?” Ed asked, voice quiet and so unlike himself.

“Dinner,” Roy said simply before giving Ed an expectant look.

“We just had dinner, idiot.” His voice was stronger then, making everything harder than it needs to be, as usual.

“I thought we might go out next time,” Roy said, not letting Ed throw them off track.

There was a pause, a silence, and it took Roy more effort than he’d care to admit not to let on how nervous he was as he stared at Ed, waiting for him to answer.

“…You paying?”

That got Roy to smirk. It almost even made him laugh. “Of course.”

A much shorter pause this time, followed by a sharp grin and, “Then count me in.”


End file.
